Fresh start
by verden
Summary: During dinner with Simon, Peter finds out Carla's been attacked by Anne. My version of the scenes that weren't shown that night.
1. Chapter 1

_This is set on the evening Carla was attacked by Anne. It seemed a big gap in the storyline, so I couldn't help filling in my version! Hope you enjoy and feedback is much appreciated!_

Pushing his pizza around his plate, Peter sat back contentedly. He loved seeing the happiness on his son's face as he picked off a pepperoni slice and sipped his giant lemonade. After all the dramas, it was good to have some father-son bonding time. He couldn't remember the last time they'd both laughed so much.

"Bet you don't wish you were at Deirdre's now, eating those chops.." he teased.

Simon paused, pretending to weigh up the options, then answered with a wide grin.

"This is the best!"

Only a few simple words, but Peter felt a weight lift from him. He'd been worrying all week about the murder case and Leanne's plot to take Simon from him. How could the woman he'd once loved turn on him so vindictively? Maybe he shouldn't be shocked she'd use his weakness as a weapon against him. But couldn't she have found another way to take her revenge?

Shaking his head, he concentrated on enjoying this time with Simon. He'd been catching up on all his news from school and all the inside gossip from Ken and Deirdre's. Simon seemed to have had a fairly calm week, relatively unscathed by all the fall-out: his drinking, Frank's murder and the false confession. What a stupid idea that had been, he thought, furious with himself. Carla had been right: he was an idiot! He'd only made it worse for her and now everyone hated him too.

Watching Simon happily eating his last slice of pizza with as much enthusiasm as the first, Peter felt a rush of gratitude for his family's support. However begrudgingly it was given, however much guilt-tripping came along with it, at least they were there for Simon when it mattered. Silently Peter promised himself he wouldn't lean on them any more. Even if the worst happened, and Carla went to prison, he'd be there, sober, taking responsibility for his son.

As Simon took his final bite, putting his knife and fork carefully on the plate as he'd been taught, Peter couldn't help but smile at him. Noticing a look of mischief on his face, Peter wondered what he was after now. Then he noticed his son's eyes were fixed on the other side of the restaurant, where the ice cream buffet was.

Peter laughed. After the last few weeks, he could hardly begrudge him a treat now.

"Go on then mate."

"Really?" Simon asked gleefully, then before Peter changed his mind, he ran off to help himself.

Peter glanced again at his phone, wondering why Carla hadn't texted. Hopefully she'd had got his note and was making the most of an evening to herself. After the funeral she probably needed some space. She was so upset about Frank's murder, and despite all their efforts, she was still prime suspect.

Looking at the final pizza slice with diminished appetite, he decided to get it wrapped up to take home for her. A treat to make up for leaving her alone all evening.

.

A moment later, Simon returned, sitting down eagerly opposite Peter.

"You're an all right dad after all you know!" he said cheekily, digging his spoon into the overflowing bowl of ice cream and marshmallows.

Peter knew he was just joking, probably not even thinking about his outburst in the Rovers, but the memory set his nerves on edge.

When Simon had screamed that he hated him, it felt like a physical blow. Or even worse, as it hit his whole body and mind at the same time. With the eyes of the whole pub on him, all his painfully built layers of self-esteem had shattered. Publicly humiliated, his business threatened and Carla struggling to cope, he'd sought solace in the only place he'd ever truly found it.

But as always the comfort of drinking was an illusion. Then the look in Carla's eyes as she'd discovered the truth made him feel even more worthless.

A sudden urge hit him to make things better. He realised he should apologise to Simon. Still, he toyed briefly with letting the moment pass: the familiar easy option. Simon looked happy now. They could just act as if nothing had happened and get back to everyday life.

Then his dad's face flashed into his mind. Ken didn't know how often his cutting words got through to him: not that Peter would ever let on. His father's blame wounded him so often and so deeply. "Disappointment doesn't even begin to cover it" had been the latest judgement. And while it drove him to whiskey that night, it also gave him the impetus to sort himself out.

.

Putting both his hands on the table, Peter decided to talk properly with Simon. Surely an apology was better than pretending everything was normal.

"Si.." he began hesitantly.

Simon looked up from his ice cream, a slight frown on his face.

Peter reached forward, placing his hand over his son's. He looked disconcerted, maybe feeling too old for hand-holding, maybe annoyed at the interruption to his pudding. But at least he didn't back away.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you the last few days" he said sincerely. "I've been dealing with a lot of stuff."

He wished suddenly that he'd asked Ken and Leanne a bit more about what they'd already told him.

"And you know me" he added, trying to make a joke out of it. "Pressure and me don't really suit."

As a sulk came over his son's face, he knew he'd handled it wrong.

"I know" Simon murmured angrily. "You were drinking again."

Peter looked down at his plate. How had it reached a point where he couldn't even meet his own son's eyes?

"Yeah I was" he admitted. "I had a weak few days...". Then looking up, he said firmly "I'm OK now though. I've stopped."

"How do you know you won't have another weak day?" Simon's voice was barely audible over the noise in the restaurant, his lack of trust all too clear.

"Well…" Guilt-stricken but determined to reassure him, Peter wondered what to say about the past week. "You know there was that man Frank.. a bad man, who hurt Carla? He hurt both of us."

Simon nodded, as Peter wished he was doing anything but having this conversation.

"He tried to cheat Carla out of her factory last week. And we were both really upset. And that's why I was drinking". Then with a firm voice, he added. "But Frank's gone now. He can't hurt us any more."

There was a pause, as Simon thought hard before speaking again.

"Amy said you hurt Frank."

Peter winced. He'd hoped that had stayed secret.

"I promise you I didn't." he insisted, squeezing Simon's hand. "Someone attacked him. He'd made lots of enemies so we don't know who. But I promise you it wasn't me."

He almost mentioned Carla too, but didn't want to plant ideas in Simon's mind. He'd finally believed Carla when she insisted she hadn't done it. If only he'd trusted her earlier. He just hoped the legal system gave her the chance to prove her innocence.

Simon seemed a bit calmer, but his frown still hadn't faded.

"How do I know you won't drink again?" he asked sadly, fidgeting with his ice cream spoon.

Peter closed his eyes. The hardest question at all.

"I can't promise I'll never be tempted Si" he admitted. "But I promise I'll be strong.. I won't let it happen again. Carla's helping me stop. Just like Leanne used to. And I'll be at the AA group too."

Peter wished he could guarantee his promise, longing for something simple he could say to set his son's mind at rest.

"Is Carla OK?" Simon finally asked, his voice small.

"She's fine now." Peter tried to mask his gratitude that Simon cared. Even just a bit.

"It's not my fault is it?" As Simon spoke timidly, he rubbed his eyes and stared down at the table.

"No love." Desperate to comfort him, Peter reached over, ruffling his hair. "Don't ever think that."

"But I was nasty to her.. And I shouted at you.." Simon said, his face scrunching up with emotion.

"Well.. " Peter thought carefully. "Some of the things you said weren't so nice. But none of this was your fault."

Simon nodded slightly, still looking uncertain.

"Look Si.. " Peter continued. "You've had so much change lately. You didn't ask for any of it. And I know you miss Leanne."

He sighed, regretting the mess everything had become.

"I wish it could have been easier for you and I don't blame you for being angry. But next time eh," he caught his son's eye. ".. just tell me how you feel and I promise I'll listen more. OK?"

"OK" Simon replied. His expression seemed brighter now, although Peter realised he'd have to do a lot more to win back his son's trust.

"Deal?" Peter reached out his hand.

"Deal." As his son shook his hand, Peter felt some of the huge pressure on him lifting.

With that, Simon picked up his spoon and carried on with his ice cream, and Peter smiled, his eyes closing for a moment in relief that he'd begun to put things right.

.

Twenty minutes later, Peter had just paid the bill when he heard his phone ringing. Ignoring Simon's impatience to leave, he saw that the call was from Carla.

"Hi love" he answered, standing to put his jacket on.

"Don't worry Peter… I'm all right". Her voice sounded strange, echoing among the background noise.

"Worry about what?" he questioned, suddenly alarmed.

"I got away... she had a knife… Sally's hurt... But I'm OK." Her voice came in bursts, breathless, and he felt his panic rising. Was that a siren in the background?

"Carla… love" he cried, desperate to slow her down, to make sense of what she was saying. "What happened? Where are you?"

.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for reviews! Here's chapter 2. There's so much aftermath that wasn't shown so I hope I've done it justice in this part._

Peter pressed the phone to his ear as hard as he could, but after a few seconds with only background noise, he began to panic.

"Carla…" he called loudly, and she finally spoke again.

"Don't worry..." she repeated. But how could he not?

A few faces in the restaurant had turned to stare at Peter now, but his attention was focused on Carla's voice and the worry on Simon's face.

Sitting back down at the table, he rested his free hand on his son's shoulder to reassure him as Carla continued. Her words were much clearer now.

"I'm in the ambulance, with Sally and Kevin. Sally's unconscious. We're nearly at the hospital."

Stroking Simon's shoulder gently, Peter tried to get his thoughts together. It sounded even worse than he'd feared.

"But you're OK?" he checked. There was another pause.

"My hand's cut. It's bleeding but they've bandaged it." Even over the sirens, he could hear the tremor in her voice.

"Oh love…". He longed to hold her, to tell her it was going to be OK. But he wasn't sure if it would be. It all seemed so sudden, so confusing.

"How did it happen? I thought you'd be home."

He heard a long sigh.

"You won't believe it. Anne had a knife…"

"Anne..?"

Completely taken aback, he thought he'd misheard. But as he asked again, the sirens stopped, and Carla rushed to end the call.

"Sorry – got to go. At the hospital." She sounded suddenly hesitant. "Is Simon….. Can you come here? There's a lot I need to tell you."

"Of course" he answered instantly, mentally calculating the quickest route. "We'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Thanks Peter..."

She rang off, and Peter sat, stunned, hardly comprehending what he'd just heard. Why would Anne hurt Sally and Carla? Hadn't her son caused them enough pain already?

Seeing Simon's confusion, he pulled him in for a long hug.

"It's OK" he murmured several times, trying to comfort himself as much as his son. Then leaning back to face Simon, he explained properly.

"Carla's cut her hand. She'll be OK, but we need to go to the hospital."

And together they rushed to Peter's car.

.

"My girlfriend's here... Carla Connor?" he asked urgently. To his relief, the receptionist skipped the small-talk and immediately gave directions to her room.

As he hurried Simon along the corridor, the familiar hospital smells began to unsettle him. He'd spent too much time here lately, suffered far too much. Jono, Leanne's miscarriage, Stella. His own tram crash injuries. All pushed back into parts of his mind that he couldn't bear to revisit.

Most vividly of all, he remembered Carla's recovery in hospital last year. The inner hell he'd gone through that night, pacing the corridors, trying to hide his anguish from a wife whose suspicions were too close to the truth. Struggling to imagine a life without Carla in it.

With sudden gratitude, he realised that as scared as he was now, at least her life wasn't in danger this time. And he didn't have to hide his concern any more. Not from Leanne, Simon or anybody else.

Seeing her room ahead of him, he knocked sharply, and when they heard Carla's voice, they walked in.

She was sitting up on the raised hospital bed, her left hand clutched to her chest protectively. He immediately noticed the pallor of her skin, her swollen eyes, the slight stains where she'd just washed off her make-up. Yet her face relaxed into a wide smile when she saw them.

"What have you boys been up to then?" she asked.

With a squeeze on his son's shoulder, he encouraged him to answer.

"We went out for pizza" Simon said, slightly shyly.

"Oh, very nice" she answered. "What did you have?"

"Pepperoni. It was great." Simon carried on, more confidently now. "Dad brought you a slice."

Feeling the inadequacy of this after what she'd just been through, Peter walked over to Carla. Putting the pizza box down beside her, he sat on the edge of the hospital bed.

"Thanks." She smiled weakly, as she gestured to Simon to sit where he wanted. "Don't think I can eat anything right now though."

As Carla placed her uninjured hand on Peter's arm, he noticed the fear still lingering, her brittle smile, her weary eyes. "I'm just so glad to see you."

"Me too...".

Finally able to comfort her, he drew her towards him, wrapping his arms around her tightly. As she leaned her head against his chest, he felt her move her bandaged hand aside so she could get closer to him.

He stroked her back gently, trying to ease the tension in her shoulders. Her heartbeat was steady, and he thought she seemed much calmer than over the phone. But from the way her arms tensed, clinging tightly to him, almost in desperation, she was far from her normal self.

He wished he could hold her for much longer, but as he looked over, Simon was fidgeting, looking embarrassed. Reluctantly he loosened his arms, kissing the top of her head softly as he pulled away.

"Can I see your hand?" he asked softly.

"It's covered now, but there's a bit of blood" she said, then looking at Simon she added. "Hope you're not squeamish."

"I'm fine" Simon answered instantly, with the brave defiance of an eight-year old. Peter nodded to Carla that it was OK.

Slowly she stretched her left arm out. Her entire hand was covered in a white bandage, but a few drops of blood had soaked through, in the centre and in a line right across her palm. From the awkward way she held it, it was obviously still painful.

"God Carla" he said, shocked. Simon looked disgusted and fascinated at the same time.

"Looks worse than it is" she assured them.

"Does it hurt?" Simon asked.

"Just when I move it" she answered. "The doctor says it's not deep and it's a clean cut. Bleeds more but it'll heal better."

"Will they keep you here long?" Peter asked, eager to get her away from this place and all the painful memories.

"He'll do a final check. Then we can go."

"What happened?" Simon asked.

"Oh…" she said dramatically. "Now that's a very long story." She caught Peter's eye.

"You don't have to talk about it now, love" he interrupted. "Not til you're ready."

"Well, I'll give you the short version.." She took a long breath, readying herself to face it again. Then she began speaking, slowly, almost without emotion, as if she'd rehearsed exactly what to say.

"I was at Anne's house, and I found Sally was unconscious. Anne got upset, and when I tried to call for help, she just panicked."

Carla paused for a moment, gathering herself. "She pulled a knife on me."

Peter couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had so many questions, but didn't want Simon to hear any of the answers. Why was she at Anne's? What was Sally doing there? How had things got so out of control?

Carla looked down at her injured hand as she continued.

"The first time I tried to get the knife off her, she cut me. But I managed to talk her into dropping it."

Then a slight smile came to her face, taking Peter by surprise. "So it ended all right. I'll be OK now."

She seemed less upset than he'd expected. He realised there was much more to this than she could say in front of his son.

Leaning over to see her face better, he tried to read her emotions. Her eyes were always so expressive, but there were depths that he'd never come close to understanding. Her fear was still plain to see, but there was an undertone of happiness, almost triumph. It made no sense.

"Anne didn't mean to hurt anyone, you know" she said softly. "It was all an accident." He sensed she was trying to explain something to him, but he didn't understand what.

.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry it's taken a few days, but here's the final part. Thanks for all your reviews!_

Peter longed to know what had happened, but knew he couldn't ask more with Simon there. With reluctance, he changed to a safer subject.

"Any news on Sally yet?"

But before she could answer, there was a loud knock on the door. As Carla flinched, her body lurching back against the hospital bed, Peter realised how much her ordeal with Anne had affected her.

Instinctively he reached to comfort her, but she moved her arm away, seeming embarrassed at her reaction. Then, composing herself, she greeted the doctor as he entered the room.

"Mrs Connor?" he checked. Then seeing Peter, he added. ".. and you must be Mr. Connor?"

"Not quite.." Peter smiled awkwardly. "But I'm her partner."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Simon's arms folding, a slight sulk on his face. Despite their talk earlier, Peter realised he was still a long way from accepting Carla.

"You're lucky the cut wasn't deeper" the doctor said, as he changed Carla's dressing. Then after a few more questions, he was happy to let her go home.

"Make sure you keep it clean, and tell us if you have any more pain." he advised, as he showed them out.

Massively relieved, Peter took her unhurt hand in his, his other arm around Simon, and they left the hospital together.

.

Peter couldn't help laughing, when he left Simon's room to find Carla half-way through a massive plate of pasta.

"What…?" she feigned indignance. "Knife wounds give you an appetite. Well-known fact."

He smiled, glad to see her dark sarcasm back.

"Si fell asleep straight away. Must be exhausted, poor kid." he said, more seriously

"At least someone'll sleep tonight…". She looked worn out and Peter realised how much she'd been holding herself together for Simon.

The moment they had arrived home, she'd headed straight to the shower. She'd said she had to get rid of every trace of that day. It was a long time before she came out, and she'd been quiet ever since.

Even now, he sensed she wasn't ready to talk, so he sat quietly with her as she finished her meal. Then clearing her plate away, he moved to the sofa.

After a few moments, she joined him. Now they were alone, he could finally comfort her properly.

"Come here..." he said, encouraging her closer, as he stretched out on the sofa so they could lie down together.

He wrapped his arms around her, and for a while he just held her, relishing the feel of her skin against his, her warmth, her closeness. Then he thought he heard something, a small sob, next to his shoulder. Leaning over, he saw the slow tears running down her cheek.

"Love, it's OK now" he tried to comfort her, stroking his fingers gently along her arm.

"I was so scared Peter…" Her eyes looked haunted.

"I know…" he sighed, trying to soothe her, hoping she'd tell him what really happened that day. He was desperate to understand, but he knew if he pushed her too hard she'd close down completely.

"Sorry.." she said, wiping her tears away. "I just keep thinking what could've happened. When she had that knife"

"I wish I'd been there to help you." he said softly, struggling to find words to help her through this.

"When Frank…" Her voice cracked, but she wouldn't stop. "..he was in control. He always meant to hurt me."

"Don't do this Carla." He had to stop her, he couldn't bear to listen to any more. But she carried on as if she hadn't heard him.

"But Anne was totally out of control. She could have done anything."

Suddenly Peter could vividly imagine the call he'd have received if things had gone differently. He could have lost Carla forever.

Feeling so relieved she was back with him, he ran his fingers gently through her hair, trying to help her see that everything would be OK.

"Thank god you're safe now though eh." He tried to raise her mood. "From tomorrow, we're gonna fight that DI Nash. And once we've cleared your name, I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

"That's the thing though..." She leaned towards him, her face lighting up with relief. "We don't have to fight any more."

She reached out her hand, stroking his cheek with sudden tenderness.

"What do you mean?" Her sudden shift in mood had completely thrown him.

"It was Anne." she said, a meaningful look in her eyes.

"I know…" .

"No…." Carla interrupted sharply. "It was her that killed Frank. That's what Sally must have worked out, and that's why Anne pulled the knife on me."

Peter couldn't breathe. His head spun, as everything he thought he'd known was thrown up into the air. He closed his eyes for a moment while his new understanding sank in and all the pieces settled into place again.

"Anne killed her own son…?

He still couldn't believe it was true. He thought of Simon, unable to comprehend how anyone could hurt their child like that.

"She told me what happened." Carla continued, anticipating his question. "And Kevin heard her admit it too, and the paramedics, so she's got to confess now."

Peter shook his head in disbelief. He was glad she'd not told him in front of Simon, but amazed she'd been able to keep it to herself all evening.

"So how did it happen?"

"That night…. at the factory, when I made him admit what he'd done…"

Peter nodded, ashamed. Eventually she'd told him about it: about the taunting, the cruelty, the threats. And he'd left her alone that night, when she needed him most. Another drunken regret to add to the list. But remembering his promise to Simon, he vowed it would be the last.

"She heard it all. Him admitting it.. threatening to do it again." After a pause, she continued, staring over his shoulder. "They argued, it got out of control, the bottle was there. Before she knew it, he was dead."

"So it was an accident all along?"

Carla nodded.

"She didn't know what she was doing. She was devastated…"

"Never mind her.." Peter raised his voice, as he suddenly realised the implications. "They've got to drop the charges against you."

"I know." She answered softly, her voice hesitant. "It just doesn't seem right to feel happy." As she looked directly at him, he saw tears in her eyes again.

"If I'd not gone to the factory, got that confession.. " She hesitated. "he'd be alive and Anne wouldn't be a murderer…"

"Come on Carla, you're not sorry for them..." Peter's disbelief increased. "She attacked you… And all along, she knew she'd done it, but she still tried to pin it on you. On both of us."

"I know…." Carla frowned. "I don't know what to feel any more…"

Then she turned away from him, her voice lower.

"You know what gets me most…? Twice today, I actually felt sorry for Frank. Can you believe that?" She was angry now. "First at the funeral. Then when I knew it was Anne."

Shaking her head, she laughed bitterly. "How selfish am I, thinking about myself, when Sally's lying in a coma."

"No.." he reassured her. He could tell how hard it was for her to say this, as she continued.

"After everything he did, I end up feeling sorry for him. Even now, he's still got the control."

"Carla, listen." He forced her to look at him. "None of that family deserves any pity from you." he insisted. "At least now everyone'll know what a monster he was."

"Yes" She closed her eyes for a moment. "Maybe it's just not sunk in yet."

She smiled at him, then rested her head back on his chest, her arm around him. With a sudden certainty, Peter knew that once she'd got over today, she'd be able to start getting her life back together.

As he finally allowed himself to relax, he felt a burst of elation, almost euphoria, realising that Carla couldn't be taken away from him now.

Leaning down to kiss her, he whispered in her ear.

"You know what. Nothing to do with that man can ever hurt us again."

"I know."

She smiled again, more sincerely this time. "First day of the rest of our lives?"

"That's what we said last time…." he teased.

"Well this time it's true."

Looking into her eyes, he finally believed her.


End file.
